


You're back

by bavarian_angel



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Aftermath, Healing, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 15:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13461531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bavarian_angel/pseuds/bavarian_angel
Summary: Nothing was like before. But he was back.





	You're back

Coming back from his morning run, Jorge couldn’t hold back the sigh when he saw that the breakfast he had prepared for Marc was still untouched. He got himself a glass of water, downing it while hearing out for any signs of the younger man. However, the apartment was completely silent.

Jorge placed the empty glass on the kitchen counter before making his way down the hallway. Usually, he would turn left into their bedroom, but since Marc had come back, he hadn’t shared a bed with Jorge. The door to the guest room on the right was closed. For a moment, Jorge hesitated, not knowing what was the right thing to do. But then he slowly knocked.

There was no answer. Yet, that didn’t stop him from trying the door handle. At least, this time it wasn’t locked.

“Hey babe, I’m back...”

The room was lit by natural light and it didn’t take Jorge long to find Marc, who was sitting on the bed, wrapped up in a blanket. His face was turned towards the window, but Jorge was sure that the younger man didn’t look at anything outside.

As slowly as possible, he walked over to the bed, sitting down carefully. He lay his hand next to Marc, not touching him, but giving him the chance if he wanted to. Marc didn’t move though.

“I made you breakfast.”

“Not hungry... sorry.”

Instead of turning towards Jorge, Marc wrapped his arms even tighter around himself. His normally tanned skin was pale against the dark grey of the blanket. The visible bruises had started to fade, now glowing in an ugly mixture of green and yellow.

Even though Marc didn’t look at him, Jorge could see his face, the cheekbones looking even sharper with the weight he had dropped. And the dark circles under his eyes told Jorge enough to know that Marc - again - hadn’t slept last night, despite taking medication the evening before.

“You know what the doctors said, you need to eat something...”

“I... I still feel sick...”

“I know. You don’t need to have much. I could make you some oatmeal after my shower. And there are some blueberries in the fridge.”

Jorge could see that Marc was about to deny again. The younger man didn’t say anything though. He turned his head from the window, now staring at the blanket in front of him. And this time, Jorge didn’t want to give up. He moved his open hand so that it was in Marc’s sight.

A frown appeared on Marc’s face, almost as if it took him a moment to recognize Jorge’s hand. For a while, they just stayed like that. Nobody said anything, nobody moved. Until Marc slowly nodded, his eyes still on Jorge’s hand.

“Okay... I’ll try to have a bit.”

~*~

When Jorge opened the door, another worried face looked at him - the same way his reflection kept staring back at him when he had been walking into the bathroom in the morning.

“Hey...”

“Hi. Come in. Marc’s napping in the living room.”

Pulling off his shoes, Alex stared at Jorge, the surprise huge in his eyes.

“He’s sleeping?”

Jorge nodded, but sighed instead of smiled.

“Yeah, but only because Dr Cammero has given him something. I had to call him earlier...”

Alex’s eyebrows went up in a silent question.

“He had another breakdown in the shower this morning. He didn’t even recognize my voice. We almost broke the glass wall because he tried to fight me off.”

Following Jorge into the living room, Alex only nodded. He still didn’t know what to say. The wounds were not forgotten yet, they had just healed over.

Wrapped up in a blanket, Marc was slightly snoring. For a moment, Alex just looked at him, before he bent down and softly kissed his brother’s slightly sweaty forehead.

This simple gesture made Jorge tear up and he turned away from the scene as silent tears were running down his cheeks. He had thought that he didn’t have any left, but he must have been wrong. Unable to fight back a sob, Jorge was just about to leave the room as he suddenly felt arms wrapped around him. Still he tried to get away, but Alex wouldn’t let him.

“Don’t.”

“But...”

“No but.”

“It was my fault.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But it was!”

It took all his strength to shake Alex off, but he couldn’t make himself leave. Looking back at the young man, who might be his brother-in-law one day, Jorge started sobbing uncontrollably when he saw the hurt in his eyes. He bit his fist hard, hoping his wailing sounds wouldn’t wake Marc, who was hopefully having a dreamless sleep only a few metres away. Alex wanted to help him up, but Jorge didn’t take his hand.

“Stop saying that. Please.”

“You know that they were after me. They didn’t even know about Marc. And it was me who told him to take my car that day. They thought it would be me. I was supposed to be in his place...”

~*~

_“Hello?”_

_“Mr Lorenzo?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Don’t hang up and listen very carefully. We have someone very dear to you... a certain Marc Marquez. It was very unfortunate for him to be in your car today...”_

_“Marc...? What... what do you mean?”_

_“We want 30 million Euros. We will call you again with a time and place to leave the money. Don’t involve the police. We will know if you do. In that case you leave us with no other choice than killing him.”_

~*~

The rain had left the air cold above the lake, numbing Jorge’s cheeks. However, the shivering wasn’t due to the temperature. Wrapping his jacket closer around himself, Jorge’s eyes lingered on the lake down below.

Alex had only left a few minutes ago. The younger man had insisted to stay until Jorge had calmed down. He had also made Jorge drink some very expensive but bitter liquid, before they had sat down to talk.

On the one hand, he knew that Alex was right, he knew that he couldn’t change anything and that they all needed time to heal. However, no argument could kill this voice inside his head that it had been indeed his fault...

Despite the slight wind, Jorge could hear the sound of someone opening the glass door to the roof terrace. Turning around, he could feel tears once again stinging in his eyes.

Marc was standing in the open door, holding onto the frame for balance. Despite the sleep, he looked terribly tired and the hoodie which used to fit snugly, was now drowning him. But the worst of all was the worry in his eyes - no fear or desperation, but that look Jorge usually got after a terrible crash.

Jorge wasn’t able to move as he watched Marc slowly coming towards him, only stopping when he arrived right in front of him. Jorge quickly wiped his face, not wanting Marc to see any traces of tears. He knew himself that the following smile was a very bad replacement of his usual one.

“Hey babe... You feeling a bit better?”

Marc didn’t answer. He didn’t move either - until he slowly raised his arm, laying his hand on Jorge’s damp cheek.

That small touch made a fire burn through Jorge. This was the first time that Marc had touched him on his own account since he had returned.

The younger man looked at him, really looked at him and Jorge had the feeling as if he could see right through to his soul. Swallowing heavily, Marc pulled back his hand.

Jorge was about to reach out to him, not willing to let him go again, but instead Marc closed the last gap between them. He wrapped his arms around Jorge and buried his face into the crook of his neck.

They both breathed hard, both for different reasons. Jorge had no idea how much time had passed with them not moving. And when he felt Marc’s lips on the cold skin of his neck, he couldn’t hold back the sob any more.

“I thank God every single minute that you’re back with me...”

“And I’m very glad to be back. I had lost all hope of seeing you again. But you have to stop it...”

“Stop what?”

“Blaming yourself.”

Jorge pulled slightly back to look at Marc’s face without letting go of the younger man. He could see the reflection of his shock in Marc’s dark eyes.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you better than anyone else. From the moment on when I woke up in that dark and dirty cellar, when I had realised what had happened, I knew that you would blame yourself for it. But you have to realise that you’re not the one to blame. No one is to blame except those sick bastards...”

“But...”

Marc stopped him mid-sentence with a simple shake of his head.

“Don’t... please just don’t...”

This time it was Marc who couldn’t hold back the tears. However, Jorge noticed the difference. Those tears weren’t haunted by nightmares, they weren’t haunted by the pain of the healing wounds on Marc’s body.

Those tears were the first step of many they both had to take on the path of leaving this behind. So he simply pulled Marc even closer, letting him know that he was there and that he wouldn’t let him go again. The soft kiss to Marc’s head was a silent promise that he would never ever let something like that happen again.


End file.
